The Meaning of Happiness
by BookwormJLC85
Summary: Flint meets his new daughter. A one-shot filled with pure fluff, with a bit of romance thrown in for all you love-bugs.


_Author's Notes: My first CwaCoM fic- I don't know what it is about this film (which I loved), but I was assailed by plot bunnies after watching the movie. This takes place a couple of years after the end of the movie. Rated "K" just to be safe. Enjoy! _

_Disclaimer: Flint Lockwood and Sam Sparks belong to Sony Pictures. I don't own the characters, or the film, 'Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.' I promise to put them back when I'm done. :)_

The citizens of Swallow Falls (they had unanimously voted to reinstate their town's original name) were used to seeing Flint Lockwood run madly through the streets. They were used to many strange sights, including flocks of rat-birds, sudden food storms, and spaghetti twisters. So it was no surprise to them to see Swallow Fall's resident inventor tearing down the street as if he were fleeing from another food hurricane.

The lanky young man skirted around a corner, leapt over a trashcan, and barreled through two men, bowling them over. "Sorry!" Flint called over his shoulder, not stopping. He had to get there in time- he just had to! Flint's Spray-On Shoes (patent-pending) pounded the sidewalk as he dashed across a street; he barely avoiding being hit by several cars.

"Flint Lockwood!" Flint winced when he heard Sergeant Earl Deveraux's annoyed shout. Earl, as fond as he was of the inventor (a fact he had hid for years, much to Flint's shock), still didn't look kindly on jay-walkers.

Flint ignored him and kept running. He was almost there- just a bit further!

"Gah!" Flint gasped when a burly hand shout out and snagged him by the collar. Flint twisted to see Earl frowning at him, a mixture of annoyance and amusement on his face. "Flint, you nearly got hit by three different cars! What in the world's up with you?" Earl suddenly got a suspicious gleam in his eye as he tightened his grip on the wiggling inventor.

"You didn't blow something up, did you?" Flint would have laughed at Earl's expression if he hadn't been worried out of his mind.

"No, no! I swear! Look, Earl, you've gotta let me go!"

"Why, where's the fire?" said Earl as he set Flint down.

Flint shook his head, looking slightly crazed. "No, it's Sam! She's at Swallow Falls General Hospital! It's time!"

Earl stared at Flint for a minute, and then leapt into his car. "Well, why didn't you say anything, kid? Hop in- I'm giving you a police escort!"

"Really? Oh man, thank you, Earl!" exclaimed Flint as he jumped into the passenger seat. Earl just grinned, turned on his sirens, and gunned the engine.

They made it to the hospital in record time, but to Flint it seemed like hours. Earl had barely pulled up to the emergency entrance when Flint leapt out of the car and burst into the waiting room.

He skidded over to the counter, missed, and crashed into the nearby wall. The receptionist, a veteran nurse who had expected such a reaction from the inventor, just smiled and shook her head.

"Your wife's already inside with Doctor Johnson, Mr. Lockwood."

Flint scrambled to his feet. "Is she okay? How long has she been in there? Is anything wrong? I need to see the doctor!"

"Easy there, Skipper. She's in good hands." Flint looked at his father in surprise. "Dad! How did you get here before me? I didn't even call you!" Tim Lockwood patted his son's shoulder soothingly.

"Manny called me when you tore out of the lab after receiving a call from the hospital. He figured you wouldn't be thinking clearly, and thought I should know what was happening."

Flint made a mental note to thank Manny later; he had instantly felt calmer upon seeing his father. But for Flint, "calmer" meant that he was no longer willing to break down the door to see Sam.

All that changed when a shrill cry of pain emitted from the room. "Sam!" Flint threw himself toward the door where his wife was, but his father held him back. "Flint, relax. She's going to be OK."

Flint was about protest when the doctor emerged, beaming. "Flint? Sam's inside. You can go see her now…and your daughter."

Flint was glad his father's arms were still around him, because he was sure he would have collapsed without the support. "M-my…daughter?" He whispered, looking at the doctor with enormous, shining eyes.

Dr. Johnson smiled broadly. "Congratulations, Flint. You have a beautiful, health baby girl. And may I say, it's an honor to deliver your first child. I was also the attending doctor when you were born in this very hospital."

He shook Flint's hand warmly before leaving to fill out some paperwork. Tim gave his son a gentle shove towards the room. "Go on, son. I'll be along shortly." Flint gave his father a quick, fierce hug, and hurried into the room.

Tim Lockwood watched Flint go, blinking back tears. "Fran, you'd be so proud of our boy," he whispered.

Flint peeked around the doorway. A thoughtful nurse had dimmed the lights, and the room was lit by a soft, golden glow. Sam was lying in bed, apparently asleep. Flint quietly approached the bed, reaching out to brush some damp strands of hair away from her face. Sam stirred and blinked, smiling when she saw her husband's anxious face.

"Hey there," she said, obviously exhausted but happy. "Hey yourself," Flint whispered back, kneeling by the bedside. He stroked his wife's flushed cheek. "Are you OK?" Sam beamed at him, nodding to the bassinet next to her. "I'm doing great; we _both_ are."

Flint stood and walked over to the crib, looking at his daughter for the first time. He felt a jolt of electricity shoot through his chest when he saw her. A pair of sleepy, beautiful blue eyes blinked up at him.

"Hi there, baby girl," Flint whispered, and why in Tesla's name was he crying? He felt so happy- happier than when his mother had given him his coat, happier than when he discovered his food replicator worked, happier than he had felt in his whole life.

"You can hold her, Flint," said Sam, feeling tears on her cheeks as she watched her new family. The inventor looked at her, smiled and wiped his eyes (which didn't help at all), and very carefully picked up his daughter.

He sank into a chair next to Sam's bed, grinning from ear to ear. He rocked his daughter, not knowing if he was doing it correctly, but it seemed to work. His daughter cooed a bit, and then quickly fell back asleep.

"You're a natural," Sam murmured, knowing, as always, what Flint was thinking. "What should we name her?" Flint finally took his eyes off of his daughter and gazed at Sam. "Fran," he said quietly.

Sam smiled; she had already guessed what name Flint would choose. "I think that's a beautiful name, Flint. Fran it is." Flint gently returned Fran to her crib and then leaned over to give Sam a slow, sweet kiss. "How do you always know just what to say?" he said. Then, more seriously, "I love you."

Sam ran her fingers through Flint's unruly hair. "Me too, but about you."

Some hours later, the nurse on duty came to check on Mrs. Lockwood, and smiled at the scene before her. Flint was stretched out on Sam's bed, curled up next to his wife. The bed was too small for Flint's tall, lankly frame, but they both looked completely happy. Sam's head was on Flint's shoulder, and he had his arms loosely wrapped around her. Their daughter slept peacefully next to them.

The nurse quietly retreated and closed the door. Her rounds could wait a bit longer.


End file.
